Antonio Berelli. Rich, powerful, hungry for everything controlling. Yet there was some things he couldn't force.

You married Antonio seven months ago. His third wife. Third attempt at a good life like he wanted.

And he's needing an heir. A boy to call his own and raise. So far, it hasn't worked. It's become mechanical; scheduled sex.

Morning came too fast. Sun poured through the windows into the master bedroom of the massive manor outside, it was far too bright for you, so you woke up.

Antonio woke up after you, watching you as you got up and got dressed. He sat up in bed, grabbing his glasses from the side table and putting them on.

"Good morning, mi amor."